


Recreation

by acme146



Series: Fading Scars [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby, Canon Compliant, Dudley Works to Be Better, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Reconciliation, Redeemed Dudley Dursley, Trans Character, Trans Male Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-17 03:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11266905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: After the Wizarding War, Dudley has a choice to make. He can go back home, back to where he knows who he is, or go out into the world, and try to become something more.He chooses the braver option.





	1. Recreation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annegirlblythe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annegirlblythe/gifts).



> annegirlblythe requested some Dudley, and here you have it! Hope you like it, dear!  
> Oh and by the way I know the newsroom structure is probably wrong, but any bending was for sake of plot.

            The Wizarding War was the first time in his life Dudley felt powerless.

            As a child, he could send his parents scurrying with a few screams. His teachers were afraid of his mother’s shrieks, the neighbours were afraid of Vernon Dursley’s influence, and the kids were afraid of his fists.

            The kids, of course, including his cousin.

            But after the Dementors, Dudley realized that his power wasn’t enough to make people like him. And it wasn’t enough now to drown out the voices he’d heard, the voices he could hear so much more clearly now—the ones that said he was slow and clumsy and cruel and stupid, and wouldn’t be worth much once he was alone in the world.

            Dudley was lucky during the war. He wasn’t alone; his mother and father were there, and Hestia and Dedalus were there too. They got some snippets of news, terrible as it was, but they were far away from it in that little cabin in Wales.

            They were too far away.

            Dudley hated the terrible wizard (couldn’t say his name, _couldn’t_ say his name even though he knew it, heard his cousin screaming it in his sleep), hated that he used his power on defenceless Muggles. It wasn’t _fair_ ; just like the giant giving him a tail as a child hadn’t been fair. The Muggles had no chance; they didn’t even know what they were facing. They didn’t know what to be scared of.

            And Dudley knew then the depth of his own hypocrisy.

            He’d bullied and cheated and lied his way through life, letting his parents spoil him, letting himself indulge in whatever he wanted. And now he was being hidden by his cousin’s friends because You-Know-Who might come after them.

            Might. They were his blood relatives, the people he’d lived with for so many years, and no one was quite certain that the Death Eaters would think to use them as leverage.

            That was terrible. And it was partly Dudley’s fault.

            He tried to talk to his parents about it, but his father spent most of those months drinking and staring at the telly mindlessly. When Dudley tried to bring up his fears, his worries, his father would shake his head.

            “You’re a fine lad, Dudders,” he slurred. “Better’n any of these freaks.”

            Once Dudley would have believed him. Now the words felt like a well-executed series of punches to the gut.

            His mother wasn’t much help either. She was thinner now, nearly skeletal, and spent her day wandering the house, trying to clean things again and again, no matter how many times Hestia offered to do it by magic.  “Dudley, this isn’t our world. This isn’t our fight. Your cousin had no right to get us involved.”

            “We’re his family!” Dudley shouted back one day. “We should be involved.”

            He recoiled a second later from his mother’s scream. “We are _not his family!_ My sister made that choice long ago, and now we are suffering because of him!”

            Stunned, Dudley went upstairs and locked his bedroom door. That wasn’t right, a voice inside him insisted. Something was wrong.

            Dudley stopped bringing up his questions with his parents, but he worked it out on his own as best he could. He even asked Hestia if she could help him. Dudley felt horrible as he choked out what he was, what he’d done, but she listened.

            “You need some serious help,” was what she said. “You poor, poor child.”

            Hestia had been studying to be a mind Healer—Dudley thought it must be like being a psychologist—and even though she wasn’t fully trained she helped him through some of his problems. They stole moments together late at night and early morning, talking about the problems indulgence causes, the identity crisis that can happen once someone realizes their behaviour has been wrong, and the difficulty of pulling away from toxic behaviour when it is endorsed at home.

            Then the war was over—Hestia cried and told him about all the people who were now dead, but not Harry, _not Harry,_ and Dudley was so grateful he almost cried—and they could go home. But Dudley didn’t go with them.

            “I’m finished with school,” he told them. “I want to go away for a while.”

            His parents let him, still too hurt themselves to really notice his struggles. Dudley moved to Manchester alone. They gave him a small allowance, and that was enough for a small flat. Dudley got a job as a janitor at the news building, and cleaned without complaint. He’d never done it before, but to his surprise it turned out to be interesting and even easy. It brought him a lot of pride to see the clean rooms, and soon he started making friends in the building. Well, friends was perhaps a strong word; he was friendly with some of the people who worked in the newsroom, because he always came and cleaned, no matter what the mess was.

            One lady was always nice to him. Her name was Iris. She was a film critic, and she was frightened of him at first. He could see the fear in her face and shoulders. He used to enjoy those signs. Now it made him sad.

            That was fixed his second week, when he went to get more supplies from the closet and found Iris struggling with Paula Murt, her boss.

            His boxing training got the older woman away from Iris long enough for her to call the police. Iris was Paula’s latest victim, and her other office mates rallied around her, giving testimony to years of sexual and physical abuse. Dudley wished he could have helped sooner, or that he’d hit the woman harder.

            From that point on, everyone in that office was kind to Dudley. They chatted with him when he came in, started being more careful about messes, and they told him all about their lives. Pretty soon Dudley knew almost everything about everyone. “You’re good at keeping secrets,” Iris explained, now the head writer in that division. “That’s why we trust you.”

            Of course he was good at keeping secrets. He didn’t have anyone to talk to outside of work.

            Besides Iris, his favourite person in the office was Beth. Beth was the food critic, she had three sons and a cheerful husband, and she wasn’t scared of Dudley. She was a boxer too, and they’d done a few training sessions together. Afterwards, they would go out to eat. Beth would ask him how he liked the food, and Dudley (who’d kept losing weight and now tried to eat only good food) would give her his opinion. Apparently he was funny, because Beth would laugh.

            “You should try writing for the paper,” Beth urged him.

            Dudley shook his head. “I’m no good.”

            “Oh, go on.”

            “I mean it. I’m not good at writing.”

            Beth didn’t believe him, but that didn’t matter in the end. The next week all three of her children fell ill, and she had to stay home from work. When she called in, Iris waved Dudley over.

            “Beth says you’d be a good replacement. What do you think?”

            “I think I don’t write very well.”

            “Are you dyslexic?”

            “No, I can read.” Dudley bowed his head. “I’ve just always had a hard time writing. It’s not my hands.”

            “Show me, please.”

            Dudley couldn’t refuse.

            Iris looked at his scrawled gibberish. “I think you might have dysgraphia. It’s a problem with writing.”

            “What do I do about it?”

            “I’m not sure about what you would do as an adult; that probably should have been caught when you were young. I’ll make some calls, alright? See what I can do. In the meantime, can you read your writing?”

            “Yes.”

            “Why don’t you go out then and take notes. When you get back, I may have a solution.”

            Dudley returned from the new seafood restaurant having just barely escaped food poisoning. “I want to write about those idiots.” He showed Iris the dozen or so pages of scribbles.

            “You can,” Iris replied. She indicated a short man. “This is Leo. He’s an editor, he can transcribe what you’re saying.”

            Leo was new to the building, dressed all in blue, and he had the biggest brown eyes Dudley had ever seen. They spent an afternoon going through Dudley’s impressions: “décor like an old antique shop”—“fish on the wrong side of raw”—“my server was the only bright spot; she noticed the mold on the sauce before I did”. Dudley wanted to publish under Beth’s byline, but Leo insisted they make their own. They finally agreed on Lee Durley.

            When Beth returned to work, she was delighted to see that Dudley had been hired as a food critic. From then on, Lee Durley appeared every other day, usually covering the extreme restaurants; the cheap, the expensive, the awful, the exquisite (not always at the same time). Leo and Dudley would go out together and eat. They only ate at places once, hence the column name ‘One Time Review’. Beth went to the restaurants a few times to compare, and that created a playful dialogue between the columns that people loved.

            It wasn’t long before Dudley and Leo were going out on nights when they had no column to write, just to spend time together. Other nights they would go to Leo’s (much nicer) apartment and Leo would encourage Dudley through writing exercises. After four months of this Dudley managed to write a review entirely on his own by hand, and he’d learn proper shorthand. Ecstatic, Leo kissed him.

            And for the first time in years—maybe the first time ever—Dudley was happy.

            He was trembling as he tried to decide whether or not to call his parents. He remembered another time that had set him trembling this badly.

            _“Who’s Cedric, your boyfriend?”_

And he’d prayed in the split second before Harry answered that he wasn’t, because Harry was a _freak_ and Harry was _wrong_ and if he liked boys, that meant it was a freak thing to do. And Dudley might have done many things but he’d never hurt someone for being queer. He wasn’t sure what his parents would do. Particularly since it turned out he wasn’t gay at all, because before Leo there’d been a brief fling with Jessica from the finance column that he'd greatly enjoyed. Leo had just gotten top surgery the year before, and he’d told Dudley that he was still willing to bear children. So he was…poly? Pan? He wasn’t sure how to say it right, to say that he understood that there were more than two genders and he  _liked_ more than two genders. He just loved Leo.   

            But his parents surprised him. “Bring him down to meet us,” his mother squealed, and his father said only, “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”         

            The next few years were cheerful ones. Dudley and Leo got hired full-time to write their column, and apart from occasional experiences with food poisoning (and one memorable day when a restaurant caught fire), it was a pleasant experience. Dudley and Leo moved into a flat together, and they had a decent life.

            And then Leo had to make a decision.

            “I want to have your baby,” he told Dudley. “And I better do it now, before I start too many hormone treatments.”

            Dudley was terrified. A child? Could he do that? The way he’d been raised, he knew next to nothing about parenting. It wasn’t about giving kids what they wanted at all times, it was about raising them, teaching them to be good, all of those things.

            But Leo had his heart set on it, and Iris encouraged them, and Dudley agreed. They would try for a child.

            Leo became pregnant almost immediately, and the next nine months were hard on both of them. Dudley was frantic, trying to find every book he could and read them as quick as possible, ad he was trying to protect his partner from being attacked.

            “I don’t mind them misgendering me,” Leo said through tears one night, a hand on his pregnant belly. “God knows it’s weird to see a pregnant man. But I just…I just want my baby, why do I have to go back to being Rachel to do that?”

            Dudley held his hands and took care of him and wrote most of their columns on his own. Leo learned to make concessions; he let his hair grow out again (and after the baby was born, he  kept it almost to his shoulders) and wore more ‘feminine clothes’, though he drew the line at dresses. After the first few miserable months of morning sickness, he joined Dudley for some of their reviews. They were actually in a restaurant when Leo’s water broke.

            He laboured for twelve hours, and he had to check in as Rachel and Dudley was told to ‘support your girlfriend’. But neither of them minded, because at the end of twelve hours they were together as partners, Leo and Dudley, as they held their baby daughter.

            She was named for her godmothers, Iris Elizabeth Dursley. Her grandparents squealed over her, but Dudley took them aside and said something quietly.

            “I don’t know if she’s magic. She might be. If she is, you better not turn your backs on her, or you will lose contact with all of us.”

            Shaken, his parents nodded. Dudley wasn’t sure if they would actually behave, but he intended to stick to his guns no matter what.

            A few days later, Dudley and Leo had their first picture taken of them above their column, with Iris in Leo’s arms. They’d never revealed their real names, and it was a big step for Leo to come out that way, but he insisted he was okay with it. “The more visibility, the better for young kids who don’t feel right in their own skin.”

            The photo brought in loads of mail, a lot of it pleasant, some of it so nasty that Iris (the Elder, which is what Leo called her) got the police after the senders, and one letter Dudley had never thought he would see.

            It was the last letter of the day, and Dudley was sitting with Iris in a sling, and he read it with utter shock.

            _Dear Big D,_

_Congratulations on your partner and your baby! She looks very sweet, she really takes after her fathers. I’m happy to see that you’ve made a life for yourself, outside of our old house. That must have taken a lot of effort, and I hope you feel satisfied._

_I’ve wondered where you were for a while now; I didn’t want to contact your parents, and I couldn’t find any record of you in Surrey. I’d be happy to come to Manchester; I don’t to make you travel with an infant, I know how hard that is. If you don’t want to see me, that’s fine, but I thought I’d better take this chance to write._

_Your Cousin,_

_Harry Potter_

The return address on the letter was a postal box in London. Dudley waited until Leo woke up the next morning, and they talked about what they should do. Leo didn’t know about the magical world, but he knew the rest of the story.

            “It doesn’t sound like your cousin is really asking for anything,” Leo said carefully. “I think he just wants to see you. But hasn’t he heard of Facebook?”

            “I don’t think he’s the type for that,” Dudley said carefully. He really wasn’t quite sure how much to say. “I would like to see him. We have unfinished business.”

            Leo caught his wrist as he tried to rise. “Dudley, just remember that this is your life now. You’ve done a hard job of reinventing yourself. I don’t want your cousin to trigger you into going back.”

            “I’d rather die than be what I once was,” Dudley said. “Because I wouldn’t be worthy of you or Iris.” And he meant it. He hated the person he’d once been, and though he knew parts of it were because of his parents, a lot of it fell on his shoulders.

            _Dear Harry,_

 _I think it would be nice to reconnect. Do you have access to a phone? My number is on the back of this, and you can call and arrange a time. If you can’t phone, write me back straight away._  

_Your Cousin,_

_Dudley_

Harry called two days later. “Hello, Dudley.”

            “Harry.” Dudley fumbled for words; what should he say? What do you say when you have history like theirs?

            He heard a baby’s cry from the other end. “You have a child?”

            “I have three.” Harry sounded tired, but very proud. “Lily’s my baby, and I have two sons, James and Al.”

            “That’s nice. Leo and I are just going to have Iris.”

            “How is she?”

            “She’s…incredible. Babies are so small.” Dudley blushed. Obviously babies are small.

            But Harry just said, “I know. You’d think after having almost a dozen nieces and nephews and three kids of my own I’d get used to it, but…they’re so small.”

            Dudley wasn’t quite sure what to say next.

            “Would it be okay if we had a visit?” Harry asked. “I’ve rather gotten out of the habit of using a phone.”

            “Sure. I still have some time off, I could come down…do you live in London?”

            “Yes, but I can come up. It’s free for me to travel, right?”

            Dudley lowered his voice. “You mean the…the Disapparating thing?”

            “Yes, exactly. When are you free?”

            “I can take Iris to the park tomorrow afternoon. We could meet there.”

            And with some directions and a final, awkward goodbye, Dudley ended the first conversation with his cousin in eleven years.

            He showed up a couple of minutes late the next day, pushing Iris in her pram. Harry was sitting on a bench. He was wearing a Tshirt and jeans, ones that actually fit him, and he had a few lines around his eyes but nothing major. Dudley couldn’t think what the major difference was, until he realized that Harry looked happy. He’d never seen his cousin look that way.

            They shook hands and Dudley joined him on the bench, lifting Iris out of her pram. Harry cooed at the baby. “She’s even more lovely in person.”

            “What do your family look like?”

            “That’s right, you’ve never met Ginny. I forgot.” Harry pulled a picture from his pocket of a red haired woman with a small redhead boy and a dark haired boy on her lap. Harry sat next to her in the picture, cuddling a baby with masses of red hair. The picture moved, and Dudley watched fascinated as the little family played together.

            “They’re beautiful, Harry,” he muttered.

            “I know they are.” Harry smiled at his family before he put the picture away. “So…food critic? What’s that like?”

            “It’s nice. Better when the food isn’t terrible, but in some ways that makes the writing more fun.”    

            Harry laughed. “I know. I went and dug up the rest of the columns once I realized it was you and your partner. You write well.”

            “Leo taught me. Apparently I actually have a condition that makes it hard to write.”

            “That’s terrible.”

            “Should have caught it ages ago.” People would have, if his dad’s money and mum’s voice hadn’t kept forcing the teachers to move him along, if they hadn’t insisted nothing was wrong with him…

            “They fucked us up, didn’t they?”

            Harry’s bluntness startled Dudley into honesty. “Yes, they did. I love them, though. They thought they were doing what’s best.”

            “No,” Harry corrected him gently. “They _knew_ what they were doing what’s best. They wouldn’t listen to anyone, because you were _theirs_ , and they knew best.”

            Dudley couldn’t bring himself to defend his parents to the cousin who’d lived under his stairs, who’d worn his castoffs. “I had their love, at least. I think you had it worse.”

            “I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Looking back now, I really don’t. But that’s coming from my end.”

            Dudley just nodded. He stood up. “I can’t stay long,” he blurted, and really, he couldn’t. “Leo and I need to work on a quick column. But if you want, we could walk back together, it’s not far.”

            Harry smiled. “I’d like that.”

            And so began an awkward relationship. Dudley never quite lost his suspicion of wizards and magic, and the looks he got from some of Harry’s family made him suspect he was right to be cautious. Besides, he and his cousin had built separate lives, and with everything in their past it was probably for the best that they kept it that way.

            But every Christmas Harry sent cards of cash for him and Leo and toys for Iris, and Dudley sent the same. They kept in touch on the phone once a month, and finally grew comfortable when those calls ended in silence as they tried to bridge a gap that twenty-eight years had dug.

            That gap had a helping hand once Iris had grown up brilliant and Muggle, and met Lucy Weasley at university.


	2. Test of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris has already come out to her grandparents in one way, but there's something she hasn't told them about her friend and now girlfriend, Lucy. Dudley's afraid for his daughter, but his influence has stretched across generations.

            Dudley stood outside his daughter’s room and trembled with fear.

            He wasn’t afraid for himself, or even for Leo. They both had steady work, they both volunteered at schools—Dudley speaking about bullying, Leo creating spaces for queer students—and they had their daughter. Their sweet, beautiful daughter who was so brilliant, who had friends who adored her.

            And now she was in love, and that’s what made Dudley tremble.

            His parents were on their way to visit for Christmas, and Iris was going to tell them about her girlfriend. Mum and Dad already knew that Iris was a lesbian, so that wouldn’t be a surprise.

            Learning that her girlfriend was not only a witch, but Lucy Weasley, Harry Potter’s niece on his wife’s side, was going to be the surprise, and Dudley knew it could be a damaging surprise indeed.

            When Dudley was in the hospital getting his tail removed, his dad came to visit without his mother. “I need to explain some things to you, son.”

            Dudley listened intently as his father explained about his dead freak aunt and her freak husband, which was why his cousin was such a freak.

             “Why did you marry Mummy, then?” Dudley asked. “If she had _them_ in her family?”

            “I loved her,” Dad answered. “She was my girl, and I loved her. She told me the night I proposed; I was ready to build a life with her. She couldn’t help who her family were, and I told her so. It still doesn’t matter. That boy might live with us, but he isn’t family. Not the kind that counts.”

            Dudley swallowed. “But it does run in families, right?”

            “I’m not sure.” Dad fidgeted. “We’ve never talked about it much. I do know that your aunt was the only one in Petunia’s family.”

            “What if I’d been born that way?” Dudley asked in a whisper. It was the first time he’d ever considered the idea that his parents might not have loved him.

            Dad leaned over and gripped Dudley’s arms fiercely. “You’re my boy, Dudders,” he whispered. “You’re my darling boy, and Mummy’s darling boy, and we love you. I suppose if you were like that we’d figure something out. But we would always love you.”

            That was thirty years ago. Hagrid had actually apologized about the tail three years ago, Dudley had been to the Burrow, and they had an invitation to the “everyone who we call family party”, as Harry called it. With the sheer amount of families and children, Dudley completely understood that they only had one party like that. And Dudley had other friends, Beth and grown-up Iris and others at work and in his favourite restaurants. He had a full life, just like his daughter.

            But Iris had always been so loved by her grandparents. She knew the story, to a point, but Harry and Dudley told a version that gave hindsight’s benefit of the doubt to both Petunia and Vernon, even when Dudley wasn’t so sure that they deserved it.

            Harry was firm on that point, though.

            “That happened to you and I,” he said. “And they’re never going to tell either of us what they were feeling then. Iris needs the space to ask them herself if she wants to know.”

            And Dudley agreed. But now he was afraid for his daughter, and he couldn’t even warn her properly, because she had no idea how awful his parents had truly been. Whatever Harry believed, Mum and Dad had despised and feared him, and all wizardkind.

            The doorbell rang, and Dudley jumped as Iris’ door swung open.

            Iris looked startled. “Dad? What are you—”

            “Where’s my granddaughter?” Dad’s voice boomed.

            Iris grinned at Dudley, and hurried downstairs. Her shoulders were tense; the only indication of her nervousness. Dudley took a deep breath, and followed her downstairs.

            There was some snow outside, but none came in with his parents’ boots. When Mum kissed his cheek and exclaimed over Leo’s new haircut, there was no sense of cold about her. The only thing that had changed about her since Dudley was a child was that her hair had begun to turn gray.

            It always made him sad.

            Dad looked different—thinner and more mellow, kissing Iris’ head and talking softly to her. He was retired now, doing well, and there was more peace in his face.

            That made Dudley angry. His father had changed for his own benefit, and in so many ways he was as frozen in time as his mother. After all his own effort to grow up, it felt like a betrayal.

            They went to sit in the kitchen, and Dudley glanced at Iris. Iris nodded, her hands opening and closing nervously.

            Mum noticed. “Iris, dear, what is it?”

            “I’ve got some news, Gran,” Iris answered. “I just started dating my friend Lucy.”

            “How lovely!” Dad said. “She’s going to have to come and visit now; have to make sure she’s good enough for our princess.”

            For a minute Dudley wanted to call it all off. Let Iris tell stories about Lucy, but only Lucy. Lucy took strongly after her mother; her hair wasn’t even red. They could keep up the charade a while longer. He couldn’t face his parents’ reaction, couldn’t watch Iris be subjected to that…

            But no. He had to be brave, he had to be stronger than that. Iris deserved that much.

            “What’s her surname?” Mum asked. “She’s been very mysterious, you know.”

            Iris took a quick, sharp breath, fingers entangled. “Weasley.”

            The room went silent. Dad didn’t seem to know why, but Mum stared at Dudley.

            “Weasley?” she asked. “Is she—is she from that family?”

            Dudley nodded. “She’s Percy Weasley’s daughter, and Harry’s niece.”

            That made Dad’s eyes go narrow. “Harry who?”

            “Harry Potter,” Dudley answered. “Don’t fret, they’re not related by blood; he married Percy’s sister Ginny.”

            Dad opened his mouth, but Iris beat him to it.

            “I know about Harry, Grandad. I have since I was little. He didn’t come to visit much, but we talked on the phone sometimes. So yeah, I know the story, and I don’t care!”

            Dudley’s mouth hung open. Iris was usually so calm, but right now she was nearly vibrating with emotion.

            “I met Lucy when I went to Manchester, and she’s been my best friend and now she’s my girlfriend and I adore her! She wants to bring Muggles and magic together, and I want to help. I want to help make sure that what happened to Uncle Harry doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

            To her credit, Mum flinched. Dad was just still.

            “I know you didn’t treat him well,” Iris said. “And I don’t like that. But I know you weren’t ready to take him, and you shouldn’t have had to. That shouldn’t have been his only option. I want to make sure that if magical babies come into Muggle households they’re supported with love and understanding, and the same thing when Squibs are born in wizard families. Did you know that can happen? Babies can be born in magic but have none of their own. And I want to do it with Lucy, and I want to be by her side and still know my family, and I should be able to do that! If you can’t deal with that, fine. I don’t want to force you into anything. But if you really love me, you won’t make me choose between two groups I love—my friend Dev’s a wizard too, by the way.”

            Dudley stared at his daughter, unable to even check what his husband was doing, let alone his parents. Iris sat tall, and her hands were still, and there was a fire in her eyes that Dudley had never seen before.

            “She makes you happy?”

            That was Dad saying that, and Dudley risked a look. His father sat shocked, but there was no anger in his face, only a confused look of pride.

            “She makes me very happy,” Iris confirmed. “I have a future with her, I know it. And it’s okay if our families don’t get along, but I need to know that you’re still my family.”

            “We will always be your family.” Mum’s voice was hoarse, and her pale eyes were watery. “I don’t know if you’ve made the right choice, Iris, but we will always be your family.”

            Iris’ shoulders relaxed just a bit. “Thank you, Gran. That means a lot.” She drew her locket from underneath her ridiculously large Christmas sweater. “Do you want to see a picture? She’s absolutely gorgeous…”

            And just like that, Iris was telling her grandparents about her girlfriend, and they were asking questions. Soon enough the conversation shifted to her latest classes, and then to holiday plans, and it was only then that Dudley drew a proper breath.

            They had dinner in the kitchen, and thankfully Leo managed to get Dudley talking. He couldn’t quite understand what had happened, but his parents were calm, they were even laughing. Iris was calm too, and didn’t hesitate to talk about going to visit at the Burrow for New Year’s.

            When dinner was finished, Dudley stood. “Irey, can you help your Da with the dishes? I’ll get Gran and Grandad settled.”

            Iris leapt up to grab the plates. “Dibs on drying, Da!”

            “You just want the better splash zone,” Leo grumbled.

            Dudley carried his parents’ bags upstairs to the guest room. It was all tidy; he’d kept it ready just in case they really were going to spend the night after all.

            Dudley laid the bags carefully beside the bed, and then he turned to face his parents. Before he could say a word, his father put a finger to his lips, and went over to the radio. Christmas music warbled out.

            “Thought you might want to have a private conversation,” Dad explained.

            “So you’re just okay with this?” Dudley demanded.

            “Do you want us not to be?” Dad retorted. “It’s unfortunate, I suppose. But if she’s in love, let her be.”

            That threw Dudley.

            “Don’t you remember what you told us when she was born?” Mum asked. “That if she was…if she had magic, we couldn’t turn our backs on her?”

            Dudley nodded, remembering the heartbreak of beginning his first conversation with his parents after his daughter’s birth with a warning like that.

            “We made our decision that day,” Mum said. “And we love her, just as we love you.” Her face clouded. “I suppose this is my third chance to do this right, to be a proper family member.”

            Dudley thought of his long-dead aunt and his cousin.

            “So what if she marries this girl?” he asked. “Because she very well might. And if she has a child—”

            “I suppose we’ll have to deal with that.” Dad didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look angry either. “Lad, we love her. Just like we love you. If in the past we…withheld our love from others, that doesn’t mean we can’t try and do better with her.”

            Dudley nodded, his throat tight. “I should go help with the dishes,” he managed. “Iris and Leo will turn the kitchen into a swimming pool otherwise.”

            He left the room, but he turned before he went down stairs. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “Proud of you both.”

            It was the first time he’d ever felt that way.

            By the time Dudley reached the kitchen there was indeed a good deal of water on the ground. Leo was cowering, a towel over his face as Iris advanced on him with a sponge.

            “Come on now, Iris, leave your poor Da alone.”

            Iris grinned as she turned to him, water all down her front. “He got me too, Dad.”

            “I know, girl, I know.” Dudley hugged her then, as tight as he could.

            Iris usually protested that sort of hug, but she hugged back just as hard. “That was scary, Dad.”

            “I know.” Dudley kissed her head. “I am so proud of you, you were brilliant.”

            “Did you rehearse that?” Leo asked, putting a hand on Iris’ back. “It was a great speech. Wish you were around when I came out to my parents.”

            “Did Nana not like you?” Iris asked, startled.

            “Oh, she was fine. So was my Da. But I’d gone so pale they thought I was telling them I was deathly ill.”

            “But you were just Leo, not Rachel.” Iris pulled away. “And no, I didn’t practice. I just did what I needed to do.”

            “And how did you know what to say?”

            Iris looked at him with loving exasperation. “Dad, you’ve both spent the last twenty one years raising me to be strong, love well, and tell things straight when they matter. So I just told them what was happening, and I was ready no matter what they said. What else could I do?”

            That was the first moment Dudley felt like he’d done something right. After all the fumbling and uncertainty, all the weight of the past and the fear of the future…he’d helped his daughter. That was all he needed.

            “I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” was all he could say, but he hugged Iris close to him again, and hugged Leo too, standing in the damp kitchen.

            “There’s one thing that’s wrong,” Leo said in a muffled voice.

            “Oh?” Iris asked.

            “When have your dad or I _ever_ taught you to tell things _straight_?”

            Dudley laughed. It was going to be a splendid holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it-- Petunia and Vernon accept Iris for who she loves (and they are being sincere, though they're much more like Lucius than Draco in that regard). I'll give a bit more insight into Iris' thought process in her 'Kin' chapter, but this story is about re-creating (and recreating, so both definitions work), and Dudley's relationship with his parents and the way he and Leo raised their daughter is the biggest kind of re-creating a family can go through.   
> Cheers,   
> Acme

**Author's Note:**

> This group of characters will be back in future editions (especially Iris). Next week I hope to have a bit more on her and Lucy, but I'll have to see how...um..verbose I get. I tend to have that problem :)  
> I also decided to not make the Dursleys homophobic. I'm not really sure why, but that's what I'm going with.  
> Cheers,  
> Acme  
> Note: This has been edited after some comments about Dudley speculating about being poly or pan. I realize now that I edited out a line that implied him having previous attraction to women, which would prompt that speculation. That's been fixed now, and I apologize for the confusion. If Dudley was attracted to men only, he would be gay and still attracted to Leo. Trans men are men.


End file.
